


how did we end up here?

by f_ckromeoandjuliet



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Ultimate Universe
Genre: Crack Relationships, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, THERE’S ONLY ONE BED, actually no i can't, also, but like serious, i can explain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17194583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_ckromeoandjuliet/pseuds/f_ckromeoandjuliet
Summary: In a world, very much like the one he knew yet distinctly different, Damian Wayne realized he wasn’t going to make it home alive if he tried to make it home alone.***Damian Wayne gets stuck in the Marvel universe and needs Miles Morales to help him get home. The only problem is that after seeing that smile he doesn't really want to go home.





	how did we end up here?

**Author's Note:**

> It's a weird story but I can explain? I started this last year and will you at least give me a shot before laughing.

In a world, very much like the one he knew yet distinctly different, Damian Wayne realized he wasn’t going to make it home alive if he tried to make it home alone. The foreign city before him was brighter than he had ever seen Gotham. Even in the dead of the night, the town was lit up like the Christmas Tree that graces the parlor of Wayne Manor every holiday season.

Most children would take solstice in there being no shadows but most children are not Damian Wayne. Due to relentless assassin training since he could tottle around on his own Damian has found a friend in the darkness. The harsh light around him was his true enemy. He was exposed, and exposure means weakness. If even one person looked up his cover would be blown yet he couldn’t climb down because he didn’t have his gear when he fell through the godforsaken portal that landed him here (except for the brass knuckles he wears everywhere and the sweet-ass collapsible katana strapped to his back.)

As the young hero loses hope someone drops down beside him. The new arrival was none other than Miles Morales, New York City’s newest Spider-Man born from the tragic death of Peter Parker. The two boys shared histories of losing the ones they loved yet their outlooks on life were starkly different. While Damian caved in bottling his grief Miles used the loss to propel himself to do better. To master his powers. 

“Why yah hanging out above Times Square?” Miles is all toothy smiles and sharp lines as he pulls off his mask. Something in Damian’s mind reminds him that Miles made an idiotic move taking off his mask but that was quelled by a stronger emotion taking over. Why was his stomach doing somersaults? Is it a sign of fear or...attraction? 

“The latter is impossible,” thinks Damian, “The only other person up here is this boy. I absolutely cannot be attracted to him.” None of this is said though. Instead, Damian admits that he doesn’t know how he got onto of a billboard in the middle of Times Square. “I’m not from this universe. I fell through a portal of some kind.” 

Miles’s brows scrunch in confusion. “ What universe are you from?”

“Fifty-two?” Miles grabs his phone from the pocket of the hoodie slung over his super suit. 

“I knew I recognized you. You’re Damian.” Damian’s body instinctively goes rigid. 

“How do you know my name?” Miles holds up his phone for Damian to see. Clear as day is a Wikipedia page about him. That didn’t surprise Damian considering he’s the heir the Wayne Enterprise, but everything about his life is spelled out plain as day.

His childhood.

His secret identity. 

Everything. But it’s all fiction according to the internet. “May I see your phone?” Miles hands it over with a shrug. Damian searches his Instagram, twitter, and even his Facebook which should be filled with status posts of him being a younger and much more dickish Damian, but it’s all gone. The closest thing to any resemblance of his fifteen years on earth is a “fan account” twitter filled with stuff he would never utter. “What is this?” He shoves the phone back in its respective owners face. “What hell hole have I fallen into?”

“New York City.”

“Get me home.” Damian is on the verge of tears. He’s never cried before, but the hot sticky reminders of how far he is from his family threaten to roll down his wind-chapped cheeks. 

“Damian,” comes Miles soft and low but not quite low enough voice, “I can’t right now. Come home with me. It’s Christmas Eve and you look like you need a hot meal.”

“No. I want to go home.” Miles turns away.

“Freeze in the middle of New York because you’re asking the impossible of me.” Damian relents and goes with Miles. Both boys know the threat was meaningless but neither admits it for that would show that they have developed a fondness for each other in the mere minutes they have been in the same universe.

“Where are we going?” Before Damien can protest Miles scoops him up bridal style and starts swinging between the buildings. The question is avoided until they land in front of an inconspicuous apartment building. Only then after Damian is dropped like a sack of potatoes does he respond. “Home. I told you I wasn’t going to just leave you in the cold.” 

“You wouldn’t be the first.” Miles’s eyes soften. 

“I can’t promise that it won’t happen again but tonight you’re safe.” He turns away rummaging in his pocket giving Damian an opportunity to study him. Miles frame is tall (at least compared to Damian) and willowy yet strong reminding Damian of a ballet dancer in their prime. His thoughts wander to how defined Miles would look without his suit. Exactly how defined is he?

The thought is cut off by the smell of food reminding Damian of just how long it’s been since the protein shake he considered lunch.

He’s guided into a small kitchen where a woman is stirring something on the stove. “Mama.” She turns around to face Miles. “I kind of found a stray kid.”

“I can see. Set an extra place and after dinner, you’ll need to put clean sheets on your bed.” Miles blushes at the demand. 

“He’s sleeping in my bed?” She gesture around.

“There’s nowhere else for him to sleep. As much as I’d love to I’m not going to kick your uncle out into the night drunk and tired.” Miles spins around to see his uncle sprawled out on the couch. 

“Hi.”

“How ya doing, kiddo?” Before Miles can choke out a reply his mom catches his attention again. 

“Go take off your super suit and see if some of your old clothes will fit him.” Mile’s Mom has already turned back to her cooking gesturing at Damian with a nod of her head. As Miles grips Damian’s wrist Damian goes as red as the tomatoes in the stew on the stove. “Don’t forget to take off your web shooters. And brass knuckles.” The last part is clearly directed towards Damian.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he whispers at the same time Miles goes, “On it, Mom.” He’s pulled into a bedroom painted a soft blue. Something about the room feels like home.

“Damian, back to reality. Strip because I’m not sleeping in bed with someone wearing wet clothes.” Both boys blush as if there’s something more to Miles’ words. 

“Okay.” When he’s in only his boxers a pair of pants is thrown at his head.”Watch it,” Damian growls. Miles just shrugs and picks a book from his shelf. “Can I have a shirt now?” Without looking up Miles shoots his web at a pile of laundry picking up a T-shirt then flings it at Damian. 

“It’s sticky,” he says in disgust.

“That’s what she said,” mumbles Miles still looking at the book. 

“Why are you acting weird.”

“This.” Miles hands the graphic novel to Damian. His skin crawls as he flips through the pages. His life is mapped out nonchalantly for the world to see.

“Where did you get this?” Damian sounds weirdly defensive as he comes across a page of him and his dad. 

“My uncle gave me that graphic novel for my tenth birthday.” Miles lets out a strained laugh. “It might have been a little violent now that I look back at it, but Uncle Aaron meant well.”

“But why does this exist in the first place?” 

“Entertainment. You’re not a real person in this world, so what’s there to lose if you get hurt a little too severely during a fight or kidnapped by the joker?” His voice shakes with the next bit of his speech. “You saved a lot of heartbreak when he died. We may have lost our friendly neighborhood superhero but we had you. The day after his funeral a new Batman comic was released. They had moved the up the release date for all their comics so no one had to think about the sadness.” Miles doesn’t have to say who  _ he  _ is for Damian to understand. Peter Parker died and the world was never the same. 

“I’m glad I made someone happy.”

“You made entire cities happy. All of New York shut down for his funeral. Schools across New York City were shut down for an entire week for mourning. The only thing keeping people smiling through the sadness was your face.”

“I don’t get it. What’s so special about a comic book when superheroes run around the city.” Miles ducks pulling a box from under his bed. He ponders the plastic wrapped comics before pulling out one in a pink sleeve. Most comics don’t have colored sleeves. 

“It’s the issue that came out that week. They purposely changed the art style and color palettes so it would be overly cheerful. For a month people poured over DC comics trying to predict the fate of the fictional heroes we loved. Peter’s death put an end to fictional deaths because no one could handle the pain.”

“May I?” The question doesn’t need to be finished as Miles hands over the comic. “Issue 219 of New Teen Titans.” Flipping through there’s nothing special. Just teenagers doing teenager stuff.

“But I don’t understand how a comic could make so many people happy.”

“They were drawn to you I guess. I don’t know. Put on your clothes because I’m hungry.” Damian looks tiny in Miles’ clothes. (Not that Miles is huge. Damian is just so tiny.) It’s honestly adorable how he puts up his hood complaining about how cold the house is.

“Dad hates how much it costs to heat the apartment.”

“So does Bruce and he’s the richest man in the world.” They both giggle at the universal nature of dads. 

“Tell me more about your world,” he prompts holding open the door for Damian.

“Gotham is so gloomy. I wish it would be sunny for once.”

“New York gets like that in wintertime. Everything is gray then you add in a grey sky and it looks like something out of a horror movie.”

“Imagine that three hundred sixty days a year. No wonder everyone in Gotham is depressed.  _ Also _ -” He’s cut off by the smell of food. Wonderful, delicious, nonprotein shake home cooking. 

“You guys took a long time,” accuses Mrs. Morales jokingly. Neither boy can figure out why.

***

Dinner goes alright. Damian finds out how Miles got his superpowers and why Miles’ Uncle Aaron is a bad influence. (Somehow both are interconnected.) 

Now it’s bedtime. “Dames, we gotta get up early tomorrow.” Damian tries to hide the blush forming at the nickname. It’s only been a few hours but-

“It’s Christmas doofus. I have presents to open then we’re going to meet up with my friend Kamala.”

“Why am I going with you?”

“Better than sitting in an empty house. Both my parents have to work on Christmas.” He pauses to take his shirt off. “Besides, Kamala might have some ideas for getting you back to Gotham.”

“Why?”

“She’s Miss Marvel.” he doesn’t elaborate any further. “Get in bed. I’m tired.” He does. 

They lay without touching, facing away from each other, for an eternity. “You awake?” The voice is but a whisper in the black.

“Yeah,” replies Damian.

“Let’s talk, Dames.” His cheeks are crimson in the dark. 

They both turn over. “About what?”

“I don’t know. Tell me about your dad, or brothers. Just keep talking.”

“Sometimes I forget he’s my dad. I know Bruce loves me but he’s so cold and calculated most of the time that I think of him more as I mentor than anything.” He stares into the other boy’s chocolate brown eyes. ”Or maybe I’m the cold one. Love feels so foreign and disgusting that every time I wanna feel something I push it away.” 

Miles reaches out and rests his hand on Damian’s cheek. “It’s okay, Dames. He loves you. You just gotta embrace it.”

“Yeah. Tell me something.”

“I miss Peter a ton and I feel guilty about it. I don’t think I can live up to his title and I hate trying. I hate how I feel like I’m tainting his legacy. I hate how I’m not Spider-Man.”

“But you are.” He rubs a hand down Miles’ arm. “You deserve the title.” 

They both yawn.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

They fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

**Author's Note:**

> follow my Tumblr @lostwithnointernet for more weird content


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